be kind, always
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: Leta Lestrange is not used to kindness.


**For the Houses Competition**

**House: Ravenclaw**

**Year: 6**

**Category: Standard**

**Prompt: Newt's era**

**Word count: 1275**

* * *

Leta Lestrange is used to cruelty.

As a child, her father would call her wicked and glare at her every time she entered the room. He blamed her for her mother's death, so much so that Leta eventually blamed herself too.

At school, the other students make fun of her and taunt her, gossiping behind her back about how she is unwanted, how she will _always _be unwanted. And when Leta dares to stand up for herself, the professors label her wild, then they sentence her to yet another detention.

Leta's whole life can be mapped out between cruelties, and she wonders if perhaps she deserves it. Perhaps she _is _wicked and unwanted and wild, just like they all say. She knows it in her heart that everything they say is true; perhaps this is why she is so used to it.

Leta Lestrange is not used to kindness.

She is not used to seeing smiles directed her way, nor to being greeted with a friendly 'hello' as she walks down school corridors.

Not that those things happen often. Only very occasionally, in fact, as there is only one person who ever seems to view her with anything other than contempt. She doesn't know his name, only that he is a Hufflepuff and has the same Defence Against the Dark Arts class as she does. Leta wonders about talking to him, for his kindness confuses her, but she decides against it. More than two years at this school have taught her that she will always be an outsider, and one strange boy's smiles won't change that fact.

Still, Leta is curious, and so she endeavours to find out as much as she can about this boy. His name, she learns, is Newton Scamander. He is an outsider like her, who tends to be forgotten in the shadows. She feels a strange affinity for this _Newton_, for Leta knows what it is like to be mocked and looked down upon just for being who you are. Even so, she does not understand him, or how he can be so kind when the rest of the world is not.

Perhaps he has not heard the rumours about Leta, though she finds that hard to believe. Or perhaps this is his way of being cruel, tricking her with smiles before pulling the wool from her eyes. But he does not seem that type for that, from what Leta has learned, and she knows deep down that he is good to her simply because he is _good_. It hurts, strangely, to know that someone knows about her past, and yet is kind despite it all.

She doesn't know why.

Leta pushes the boy from her mind as far as she can, refusing to let any thoughts of Newton Scamander distract her from everything else. She still sees him in Dumbledore's classes, but she ignores the smiles he sends her way and tries to do the same to the inevitable guilt she feels at his crestfallen look.

_(She fails.)_

* * *

She's running from Adele Meyer and her band of Gryffindor followers one day, although she knows that one teacher or another will have joined the chase at some point. There's a cupboard to her left that looks like it hasn't been opened in years so, quickly glancing back to make sure they can't see her yet, she yanks the door open and darts inside, slamming it behind her.

She breathes a sigh of relief when no one follows her, then turns around curiously to see what's actually in here. Only to find Newton Scamander staring at her in surprise, a bird cradled gently in his hands. She opens her mouth to apologise, but Newton puts a finger to his lips and shushes her. He holds his hands out to her, trusting blue eyes watching her closely. She suppresses the urge to tell him that she isn't someone to be trusted so easily and crouches down in front of him, looking at the bird with interest.

"What is it?" she whispers eventually, glancing up at Newton. His eyes are fixed on the bird, watching it with pure love, and she wonders if he is just like this with everyone. Kind, trusting, caring.

"A baby raven," he murmurs, pulling the raven closer to him and stroking it gently. "I found it in the forest the other day with an injured wing. You see?"

He holds the bird out once more and Leta leans closer to see what he means. The bird's right wing looks slightly out of place, it's true, but she's not sure she'd ever know what to do with it. Had it been her who found it, she probably would have left it to die, but she doesn't want to admit that to Newton. She doesn't want him to realise how wicked she truly is.

Instead, she simply nods and sits back, drawing her knees up and hugging them. She watches Newton as he grabs a handful of seed from a bag next to him, holding it up to the bird for it to peck at. He seems perfectly at ease with her being here, which only serves to confuse Leta more.

"I'm Leta," she offers, wondering if he really doesn't know who she is.

"I know," Newton simply replies. "We have Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Dumbledore."

"You're Newton, aren't you? Newton Scamander?"

Newton looks up at her then, and smiles brightly, like he can't believe she really remembers his name. "Actually my friends call me Newt," he says blushing a little.

"But I'm not-" Leta catches herself before she can finish, knowing that _I'm not your friend_ might hurt him. "Alright," she says instead. "Newt."

Newt smiles again and ducks his head, going back to feeding the bird. Leta finds herself enjoying watching him, and she feels a smile of her own tugging at her lips. He looks so innocent, with his hair falling over his eyes, and she feels warm inside at the knowledge that she now has a friend for the first time in her life.

"Would you like to hold it?" Newt asks suddenly. Leta's eyes widen in surprise and her heart inexplicably begins beating faster.

"Are you sure?" she asks, because he can't mean it, surely.

But Newt just nods and holds the bird out, prompting Leta to do the same. She hesitates a moment, but eventually holds her hands out, allowing the bird to hop into them. She gasps a little and worries that she might drop it, but Newt is still looking at her as though he thinks she can do anything. Slowly, she begins to relax, and laughs softly when the raven chirps at her.

Newt grins when she looks up at him, and Leta feels the urge to hug him tightly. But the bird it still nestled happily in her palms, so she settles for a smile.

"Thank you," she says, gratitude and relief and happiness welling up inside her.

"You could help me take care of it, if you want," Newt suggests after a beat, looking at her nervously.

She nods quickly. "I would love that," she tells him.

Leta doesn't stop smiling that night, not when Adele spots her and yells abuse, not when a teacher finally tracks her down and sentences her to two weeks of detention, not even when her dorm-mates jinx her bed to never be comfy. She just thinks of Newt, and his raven, and those stupid smiles of his, and she hopes desperately that she never stops seeing them.

She thinks they are the one thing she will never get used to.


End file.
